


Sacrilege

by MsDamia, tiziano



Series: Music for the Soul(mate) [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, BAMF Natasha, Boys can be dumb, Emotional Hurt, F/M, I like to keep some things a mystery, James has trouble voicing emotions, Kidnapped Darcy, M/M, Protective Jane, Smut, So much angst, Someone will die, Soulmates, Steve is super needy, TRIGGER -noncon chapter 2, This will make you cry, girls can be dumb, kidnapped darcy trope, life is f-ing hard, the angstiest angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5715802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsDamia/pseuds/MsDamia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiziano/pseuds/tiziano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you start dating a great guy only to discover that your soulmate is his former love and suddenly everything is messed up and you are kind of left out in the cold, how the hell are you supposed to deal? </p><p>Or the one where Bucky and Steve have an epic romance and Darcy doesn't quite fit in like the universe is claiming she should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> We decided to make this a separate story collection within the universe as it will have a few more parts and one chapter is basically just smut and we didn't feel like changing the rating. - Ms Damia

Darcy dropped down as the window above her exploded in a spray of glass shards, dropping her tray to cover her head. She didn’t scream, not because she wasn’t scared, but because this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Not even the fifth at this point. She was so over this aspect of having a soulmate. She stayed still a few moments longer, waiting for any other noises to erupt. She took a fortifying breath and popped up on her toes, keeping her head below the window frame for a moment before lifting her eyes.

There was Steve. There was Tony. There was James. There was Clint. Where was … there was Sam. All the boys accounted for. They looked surprised but mostly calm. James was clutching Steve’s shoulders, his head down and but his face tilted up to Steve’s. Steve’s hands fluttered like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing with them. Clint was helping Sam up from where he was lying against the wall, shaking their heads. Tony’s full attention was on the tablet in his hands. They looked … well not fine, but safe. Not surprised. She stood up fully and took another deep breath, watching them all silently before turning and walking away, paper cups and spilled coffee mixing in with the glass from the window. 

She hit the button for the elevator. At the ding she walked on, turned, pressed the button for her floor, and as she looked up she saw Sam turn into the hall. She shook her head when he opened his mouth, but the metal doors had closed and she didn’t know what she was even shaking her head about. The antics of the boys? The annoyance of her coffee (and everyone else’s) spilling? The glass in her hair? 

The elevator stopped at her floor and she wandered down to her room, painted a bright, cheerful red and quite capable of being used as a whiteboard. Communication was always important. She grabbed a black marker and scrawled. “Unavailable” across the door in large, bold letters. She didn’t know what she was feeling right now. Resigned? Tired? Sad? Angry?

She kicked off her shoes just inside her door and stripped as she walked through the living room, leaving the clothes where they fell as she walked. She was silent as she turned on the water in the bathroom, not even glancing in the mirror as she tossed her glasses on the counter. She stepped under the water, her apartment completely silent except for the sounds of the shower.

She cut her fingers trying to get all of the little bits of glass out of her hair, pausing part way through to stare at the red rinsing from her fingers. Darcy shook her head focusing instead on finishing her hair and then stepping out of the shower. 

Twenty minutes later found Darcy carefully putting bandaids on her fingers, having already taken care of the knicks on her face and neck. She was a bleeder, unfortunately, and bruised easily. She always looked like she’d been through worse than whatever had actually happened. Thankfully she always had a small jar of vaseline on her, a trick she’d learned while dating a wrestler. 

Someone knocked gently on her door and Darcy stared for a moment before deciding to answer it. She walked over, opened the door and raised an expectant eyebrow at the tall man in front of her. After staring at one another silently for a few moments she turned and walked back to the couch, the open door invitation enough for Steve to follow her. He started picking up the band aid wrappers instead of sitting down and she rested a hand on his.

“Don’t.” He stilled at the word and slowly backed up, looking around for a moment before sitting on the chair to the left of her like he hadn’t been there so many times before. 

“I’m sorry,” He started. She didn’t let him continue. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Steve.” She informed him, voice sounding tired as she sighed. 

“But I feel like I do.” He told her, looking so pained that her face crumpled for a moment. 

“We were friends before we were ever anything more.” She reminded him, taking a deep breath to keep away the tears. 

“I don’t want you to think I don’t love you.” Steve told her, his voice quiet, pleading. Those words told her more than anything else that things were over. She’d known she shouldn’t fall in love. She had known things wouldn’t work. The words printed low across her pelvis had told her that one day everything would implode. _”I will bring you nothing but pain,”_ A promise of a dark future. 

“I know you do, I think that’s why it hurts.” She told him, her chin wobbling again. She got control of herself again, wondering how long that control would last.

“Darcy, please.” She didn’t know what he wanted from her. They were in love, but it wasn’t enough, because the man she was in love with was in love with her soulmate, and had been for most of his life. Where the hell would she ever fit into that equation? 

“Steve.” It was a desperate whisper as the first tear fell from her eye. He stood up and she raised a bandaged hand to stop him. His eyes jumped from band aid to band aid. Sam had no doubt told him she’d been there, had seen the damage caused as Tony tried to work with the arm. The low grade EMP they had only half expected. She’d been there too, had told them she felt useless and gone to get the coffee. Had come back just in time to watch everything go insane, as usual. Had seen that desperate look on Bucky’s face as he peered up at Steve through the curtain of his hair. 

“I do love you,” He told her. Another tear fell. He really did love her, she knew that, just not as much as he loved Bucky. Her soulmate. The man who didn’t like to look at her. The man who was in love with her boyfriend. She could do the math on this equation. No matter how you stacked it she was left on the outside. Alone. 

“I love you too.” She promised, trying to smile through her tears but failing. “But you need to go now. Go see James, he needs you.” He froze, standing before her with that look of anguish on his face before he turned and left. 

Darcy’s hand dropped back down to the couch and she cried herself out. Maybe one day they would have some kind of chance. After the pain had settled into something manageable, something that didn’t make her overdose on self loathing because she dared to be jealous of someone who needed so much help. Someone who was supposed to be hers. What kind of a terrible person was she that she was jealous of her soulmate? She just kept seeing his fingers, metal and flesh, digging into Steve’s shoulders. That desperate look of hope in his eyes.

A tiny part of her hated James right now. Not fair since a larger part of him hated himself. Steve, stuck between the two of them. Maybe she hated him too, even though she loved him. Steve, stuck between the selfish woman and the broken man. Steve, the best person she’d ever met. She loved him and she couldn’t even be happy that the love of his life was alive. Later, maybe things would be better. After James was more in control of himself. When he could look at her without the self loathing in his eyes. When he wasn’t staring at Steve like he was the only thing in the world that was good. Right now, though, she needed to just cry and kind of hate herself.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is kidnapped and tortured. TRIGGER: Non-Con

She pressed her tongue against the cut on her lip, dark blue eyes turning to the man who had ordered her punched. The minion doing the grunt work was unimportant at the moment. She needed to focus on the guy making the decisions. The one dumb enough to take her and think she’d roll over and squeal like the proverbial pig. 

“Not your wisest move, dude.” She informed him, spitting a gob of blood and spittle onto the floor. 

“Pain can be quite the motivator.” The man smiled, friendly in his suit and tie. If he was closer she would have spit the blood on his neatly pressed pants. 

“And believe me, I will be motivated at some point.” She agreed, tilting her head to the side and rotating her jaw, “The question is if you will get to that point before my Soulmate shows up.” Wide lips quirked up in a smirk and that man frowned a bit more, turning to the man beside him and whispering something quickly. It wasn’t in her paperwork. It wasn’t written down anywhere. She hadn’t even put anything on facebook or twitter about him. She had instead been trying to avoid him and her ex boyfriend who was kind of in love with him. For months, now, she’d been avoiding them and they her. These guys didn’t need to know that, though. 

Currently these douche bags were fucking Darcy up in an attempt to gather intel enough to get to Jane and/or Thor. Bad move to start with. The irreversible truth was that he was hers and she was his. They may not get along very well at the moment, but part of her thought he might still come for her. At the very least Steve would. She had asked for space, after all, not death.

“Ms. Lewis there are a great many things in your file. Details to which I am certain you do not want me privy to, however what is not in your file is your Soulmate. I’m afraid I simply don’t believe you.” He smiled at her. It would have been charming if she weren’t wishing she could melt his eyeballs with hot wax. He turned to the minion and nodded once. She didn’t even see the fist until her stomach was aching and she was struggling to breathe. 

“Oh, man, you suck so much donkey dick,” She wheezed, trying to laugh instead of sob. 

“Vulgarities will get you nowhere, Ms. Lewis. Where is the new Avengers base of operations located and is that where Dr. Foster is currently conducting her research.” He almost sounded bored at this point. They were easy questions. She could answer one of them. She wasn’t built for pain or to withstand it, after all. She was an office manager and science wrangler and occasional PR mastermind, depending on her mood and how much Candy Crush she’d been playing. 

“That wasn’t vulgar,” Darcy corrected,standing a little straighter. She didn’t need to jerk her arms any harder, the shoulder sockets were getting enough abuse with her arms tied above her head. “Vulgar would be calling you a cum guzzling gutter slut with a penchant for beastiality.” She smiled brightly at him, enjoying the way his calm facade broke for a moment. Her number one talent, according to teachers throughout her history, was the ability to anger authority figures. 

“Ms Lewis,” He cleared his face quickly and took off his jacket, laying it neatly across a box as he began rolling up one sleeve and then the other. “I’m beginning to think you don’t understand the severity of your situation.” 

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” She shot back. His hand whipped out, catching her across her cheek bone before he grabbed her chin and yanked her head forward again, fingers rock hard as they dug into her pale skin. She took a moment to revel in the pain, knowing she had gotten to him the way he wanted to get to her, 

“There are a great many stimulants that can make one speak out of turn. Pain is the easiest. Physical pain, however, is only one part. Emotional pain,” His smile was cruel as he let go of her face in order to carefully unbutton her shirt. “Emotional pain lasts a lifetime, and is quite often more interesting.” As her shirt fell open completely his fingers strayed to her breasts, gently tracing the edge of her bra. The young woman was frozen, completely in shock at the turn the situation had taken. 

“You don’t see the difference between raping someone and beating them?” The words came out without thought, what the man was saying and doing throwing her for a loop. Who did something like this? What kind of a person jumped from kidnapping to beating to rape? Actually … when she broke it down like that it made a horrifying kind of sense. 

“Are the acts really so different?” He asked his hands skimming along her lush curves like a buyer at a horse auction. “I took away your sense of safety. Asked you to choose between yourself and your friends. You chose poorly and now I must make you regret that decision. It was a simple bargain, you for them. Do you think they would agree with your choice?” He tucked his fingers into the waist of her leggings and pushed down. Would they agree? Steve wanted James safe. Thor wanted Jane safe. Steve had already chosen her soulmate over her... 

“Fuck you,” She twisted her hips and kicked out, the ice that had invaded her senses melting so she could attempt to defend herself. A second pair of hands gripped her waist as the man in the suit stripped off her leggings, leaving her in her bra and underwear, shirt hanging open. It was one of Thor’s and smelled like safety and thunderstorms. 

“Now you begin to see,” He agreed. It was probably seconds, but it felt like long minutes that she struggled futilely and they pulled her to the ground, shackling her feet wide while the man who had hit her earlier held her hands still above her head. 

“We both know you know where the base is, Ms. Lewis.” He asked her. She shook her head and a knife was placed under her bra, neatly severing the band between her breasts. 

“Yeah.” Darcy agreed, her eyes wide and beginning to fill with tears. “I hope you die.” She closed her eyes and he laughed, finally sounding like he was enjoying himself. 

“I’m beginning to think you aren’t as smart as they think you are,” His mouth as at her ear as he whispered and she could feel him move down her body, his tongue scraping across her pelvis, right over the words she knew were written in neat script. _”I will only bring you pain”_ She tried to pull away from them, but there was nowhere to go.

“If you have to be disgusting and degrading, the least you could do is not draw it out.” She snarled, eyes snapping open as a tear fell. He laughed again, his pale green eyes lit up with a malice she’d never seen before. He was sadistic and cruel, but his eyes were so pretty. Why couldn’t evil people look icky? 

“It wouldn’t hurt as much if I didn’t draw it out.” He reminded her, biting her nipple sharply and making her cry out in horrified pain. She had been that girl in college who had done many walks of pride the morning after a frat party. She liked sex, enjoyed getting a good buzz on, and was firmly of the opinion that your body and joy should never be something that you should ever be ashamed of. She gloried in her sexuality. She’d never had it used against her. 

“Why me?” It had been bothering her for the last few hours. She wasn’t high up in the food chain, she wasn’t integral to the day to day workings. She was no one. 

“The peons always know more than they should. Especially the pretty ones. Besides, rumor has it you were warming the good Captain’s sheets before his old pal showed up.” He told her, his grin and tone making her think that this had always been his plan from the beginning. Good to know. He moved higher, licking along her jaw. She shuddered, but instead of turning her head away like she wanted to she curved her neck and sunk her teeth into his ear. She bit hard as he shouted and the other man let go of one wrist to knock her in the head. Her teeth snapped together through the ear and she jerked, ripping off the top of the man’s ear. She spit it out, laughing as it bounced down onto her chest. Now he could feel some of her pain.

The man’s face was red with pain and rage, she couldn’t hear his shouting, though, alarms had started going off in the building. She laughed because it was better than crying, but the hysteria was there. Her people had come for her.

Both her wrists were released as the two men left the room, one man with his hand pressing into his ear, the other with a gun out to cover him. Darcy sat up, her first move to jerk on the metal bands around her ankles, trying to get her feet free. When that didn’t work she tried to get to the table that had the torture devices on it, her fingers were maybe three inches too far. Still, she struggled to get closer, stretching as hard as she could. When that didn’t work she took off her shirt, trying to whip it out enough to make the instruments scatter. It didn’t quite work like she wanted it too, but watching the scalpels fall to the floor in front of the door didn’t seem too bad an option. Maybe someone would wear really thin shoes. 

Slim legs filled the door and Darcy traced her gaze up to the closed face of the Black Widow. The other woman’s eyes took in the entire scene, eyes zeroing in on the bit of flesh now on the floor beside the other woman. 

“Ear?” The redhead asked. 

“I don’t think he quite understood what he was getting into.” She told the other woman, laughing again. The hysterical note was still in her voice. Natasha dropped to a crouch, eyeing the manacles and then pulling out a few pins from her belt and flicking them just so in order to get the metal bits to pop open. Darcy scrambled to her feet, taking off her ruined bra and slipping on the shirt and buttoning it with shaking fingers. Natasha handed her the leggings that had been crumpled on the floor and she slid them back on, not at all sure where her shoes were. 

“Objective secure.” The redhead announced into her comm before turning back to the brunette “We need to go. Watch your step.” Darcy carefully stepped around most of the instruments on the floor, but picked up one small, sharp knife she was pretty sure she could stab someone with if she needed to. 

They left the room, Darcy trying not to shake as she followed the other woman, knife held in a too tight grip. They made it out of the building without further mishap, Darcy still shaking and Natasha with a gun in each hand, eyes scanning their surroundings. 

“Do we need to talk about what happened?” Natasha asked as they sped through the building, her eyes never going to the younger woman. She didn’t need to look at her to talk to her, she did, however, need to look where she was going to provide proper cover fire. 

“Nothing happened.” Darcy informed her, voice flat. 

“Something happened.” Natasha replied, voice even. Darcy wrapped her arms around herself. 

“Something happened, something worse was _going_ to happen. Worse didn’t happen, though, and right now I would like to be in denial.” Darcy corrected, a shiver going own her spine. She wasn’t sure what she felt at the moment, other than a lot of disgust, some relief at the rescue, and a bit of fear that it wasn’t over yet. 

“I’ll get you back to the tower.” The calm assertion did a lot for Darcy, Natasha was the most dangerous woman in the world, after all. 

By the time they got out of the building and into the quinjet Darcy was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm and Natasha had to buckle her into her seat. Clint had eyeballed the girl and chosen not to say a word as he started up the jet. It was another few minutes before Steve and Sam joined them and they could take off. Natasha settled in beside the other woman and every time one of them opened their mouth she shot them a heavy lidded look and they chose not to speak. 

When the quinjet landed Darcy was unbuckling and dashing outside, throwing up what little was left in her stomach. Hands tried to pull her hair back, but she lashed out, twisting away with wide eyes as Steve carefully raised his hands and took a step back. 

“Come on, Lewis. Down to medical.” Natasha helped Darcy to her feet and walked her to the elevator while the men shared a look. Darcy leaned heavily into Natasha as they walked to the infirmary, the doctor meeting them at the door. A good look at Darcy’s chalk white face was all she needed to start explaining to the girl what she wanted to do before actually doing it. 

Darcy had a lot of bumps and bruises and some nasty contusions on her wrists and ankles as well as a single slice between her breasts when he’d cut her bra. It wouldn’t need stitches but it would hurt like a bitch while it healed. They took a blood sample and then Darcy was allowed to go back to her room.

Natasha walked her to her door but Darcy didn’t want her to come in. She did pick up one of the pens to write “I’m fine” across the cheery red after Natasha finally turned to leave. It was no one’s business but her own if she had stripped her clothes off and cried, naked on the floor, before getting up to take a shower. 

The shower was supposed to make her feel better. 

It started with trying to scrub away the feel of his hands and his tongue, the water hot enough to burn. It ended with her huddled on the floor of her shower, sobbing as the water beat down and turned her skin red. This was Stark Tower, after all, and the water wouldn’t go cold. 

Friday tried to get her attention, but she wasn’t Jarvis and couldn’t read the occupants like he could. Darcy ignored her, sobbing harder and unsure what was the most upsetting thing about the day. The kidnapping, the molestation, the attempted rape, or the fact that her soulmate wasn’t even part of the rescue mission. 

The water turned off and arms were trying to pull her up, but she fought. Slapping and scratching and keening like some kind of wounded animal, The person didn’t say anything, just wrapped a heavy towel around her and pulled her into his chest. She stopped fighting when she realized he wasn’t even defending himself. She tilted her head up and met the stormy blue eyes of James Barnes. 

“Friday called me. Soulmate protocols.” He told her after a few moments of staring. She didn’t reply, just stared up at his face. Her own was too pale, dark bruises already beginning to shadow in. When she didn’t move or say anything else he started to lead her into her room. Once there he helped her into her pajamas, a heavy flannel set that needed to be buttoned. She wasn’t in a bra but his eyes lingered on her varied injuries, the marks painting a picture she didn’t need to explain. 

When he’d gotten Darcy into bed she turned her huge, dark eyes to him. “You don’t have to stay.”

“Yeah, I do.” He replied, sitting down on the floor, his back against the wall and his long hair a mess around his shoulders as he lifted a knee to set his flesh arm on and let the other leg stretch out. 

“I’m fine.” She assured him, the words echoing false to both of them. 

“Me too.” Funny, that one didn’t sounds quite as fake, but her sudden exhaustion left her not wanting to understand the nuances of the man in the room with her. Not now. 

“The Captain is asking after you, Sergeant.” Friday’s voice tone in, sounding a bit regretful but needing to do her job. 

“You can go. Be with Steve.” She couldn’t, but she had loved that man dearly. He deserved happiness. She turned on the bed, facing the ceiling and wondering if she would ever be happy. 

“I couldn’t go with them. They wouldn’t let me. I wanted to be there.” He was talking to her, his voice soft, guarded. She didn’t look at him. Wouldn’t respond. Didn’t know how to. 

“Friday, tell the Captain I am busy.” He didn’t move from his spot, just continued to watch her. “I won’t leave you alone tonight.” He was still talking and she wished it didn’t make her feel better. She wished he wasn’t her soulmate. Wished she hadn’t been in love with Steve. Wished Thor wasn’t on Asgard and Tony wasn’t in California. She wished a lot of things, but mostly she wished for the oblivion of sleep.


	3. Part 3

She didn’t leave the tower any more. Not by herself. She still woke up with the feeling of phantom hands caressing her and took long, hot showers which were more her huddling under the spray than actually cleaning herself. In the shower, with the door closed and locked, she felt a little safer. It was white and bright and clean in there. 

Four months. Jane wanted her to see someone, talk to someone about what had happened, but Darcy didn’t want to talk to anyone. She wanted to pretend like she didn’t hide behind Thor’s bulk when they went out for food, or that she didn’t flinch when someone she didn’t know came close enough to touch her. She was living in denial and she was well aware of it, but she didn’t feel like dealing with it right now. 

It was bad enough that James kept coming to check on her. She continued to push him away, not well, but it was the confused thoughts that counted, right? Steve kept trying to as well, but she was much better at pushing him away. He was so filled with guilt she just needed to shoot him a dirty look and walk over to Jane. The petite genius had taken it upon herself to take care of Darcy as best she could and had roped Tony and Bruce into attempting to help as well. Between the three of them they managed Darcy better than she sometimes realized. 

It was after midnight and Darcy was in the kitchen heating up water for tea. Half the team was out on a mission and the scientists were put to bed. She had been put to bed as well, but it hadn’t lasted. She wasn’t like the rest of them, couldn’t handle the violence of the world being pointed in her direction. Yet she couldn’t leave them because she loved them, even when it hurt, and even when it might put her in danger again. She would figure out how to deal with everything at some point. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” The voice was familiar but she still startled violently, dropping her mug and breaking it in three pieces, hot water spilling across the floor. He was just suddenly there, grabbing a towel and cleaning the tea, tossing the ceramic pieces into the trash. 

“I’m sorry,” He told her, pulling down another glass and the box of tea she preferred as she forced herself to move her arms to her sides and not try to curl into a defensive ball. 

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I need to work on … this.” She didn’t know the word for what she meant. Her issues? Her emotions? Her defensive reactions? She looked up and found his intense blue eyes looking into hers. 

“I have been told it takes time.” His voice was a little more rough as he spoke and her eyebrows creased together a bit. 

“What takes time?” Her voice went rough, too, but this time because she was afraid they were talking about her with the soulmate she barely knew and definitely hadn’t bonded with in any kind of way. 

“Healing from traumatic events. It’s why I can’t go on most of the missions.” He replied. She didn’t relax, but she did pause and consider that he put her moment of pain on par with his decades of torture. 

“He didn’t … I.” She stopped, licking her lips and then biting them as she tried to think of the words. She was good at words, usually, but lately it was likely everything had gone dim and shrouded. Like her brain was taking a break and hadn’t bothered letting her know. 

“He hurt you.” The intensity in his eyes was palpable when she looked back up. She swallowed, struck with the irrational need to make him feel better. To set him at ease. 

“He touched me.” She told him, the words a desperate whisper as her body tensed and her throat closed up. 

“He touched you.” The sudden lack of any intonation in the man’s voice made her relax. It was a sign of violence in him, they had all been warned about it, and yet it made her feel safe in the dark kitchen in the middle of the night. 

“He just touched me, nothing worse.” She took a step forward, wanting to make him feel better. Her hand was raised, fingers just grazing his shoulder. Wanting to soothe him in a way people had been trying to soothe her for months. 

“There isn’t much worse than that, doll.” He advised her, voice dropping to a growl. She swallowed hard, fingers twitching as she moved them just a bit closer to rest over his shoulder. 

“I can’t sleep, I keep feeling his touch. His eyes. I can’t get the feeling out of my skin. It’s like he is still there, trying to take me over.” She shuddered in disgust for a moment, a pained look on her face that James didn’t like. 

“I don’t know what to do.” His face was distressed and Darcy felt her lips tremble as she tried to figure out why she wanted to cry. Was it for him, because he wanted to help her? Was it for her, because she was so messed up? Was it for both of them and their confusion and inability to process the now? 

“I don’t know either.” She stepped into his space and his hand dropped to her waist, circling behind her and bringing her in close as her fingers carded into his soft hair. 

“I can’t sleep either. I am afraid that if I do I’ll wake up wiped clean again. That all I will feel is pain and I won’t ever be allowed to acknowledge it.” James told her, his breath shaky and his hand clutching her shirt in a tight grip. 

“James?” Darcy leaned back to look up at him. His eyes locked on hers. “I am going to touch you.” She waited a moment and then went up on her toes to press her lips against his in a soft, chaste kiss. He blinked once, twice and then she was dropping back to her feet and looking up at him half afraid. Like he would rebuff her again. She hadn’t yet figured out that he’d wanted her away from him because he had been afraid of hurting her. Steve … this thing with Steve, their past, confused things. Made the waters murky and hard to navigate. Steve wanted what once was, but Bucky would never be able to meet him there. Nor was he sure he wanted to. Steve was trapped in a past he’d long since outgrown and Bucky wasn’t Bucky anymore. He was James. 

“Darcy.” He whispered her name, tasting the vowels before bending down to press his lips to hers in a kiss that was not at all chaste. As her mouth opened under his and their tongues licked into each other’s mouths he pulled her up and into his chest. Darcy’s legs wrapped around his hips as her other hand went to his hair and she pulled him close. 

He set her on the counter, her legs still locked about his hips and tried to taste her soul. Her hands were under his shirt, pushing it out of the way so her fingers could trace the shape of his muscle and her nails could scrape up his back and make his hips stutter against hers. He pulled his mouth from hers to take a shattered breath and she surged forward, licking and sucking and biting at his neck and shoulders. 

“Darcy,” He was pleading with her, but he didn’t know if it was to slow down or to speed up and all she did was was make a needy humming noise and yank her own shirt over her head and drag his hands to her breasts. He forgot what to think at that point, instead dropping his mouth to the soft spot where her shoulder and neck met and nibbling delicately.

“Yes.” It was a hiss of sound, but he could hear it clearly and she was rubbing herself wantonly against him. “Please don’t stop.” Her eyes were open and staring at him. James wasn’t the only one who needed to simply feel something tonight. Darcy was desperate. She needed sleep, she needed affection, and apparently she needed James. His hands slipped under the not at all sexy sports bra she was wearing, thumbs rubbing against her nipples. One warm and soft, the other cold and hard. The contrast was doing something amazing to her and she rubbed herself harder against him as she pulled his mouth back to hers. 

A moment later James was yanking her bra up over her head and his mouth was taking over for his thumbs, tongue laving against one and sucking it hard into his mouth to nibble softly as she gasped a sharp staccato in pleasure and her hips lifted off the counter to rub hard against the bulge in his pants. 

His mouth moved down, setting soft, wet kisses down her stomach and forcing her legs to release him as he untied the drawstring on her pajama pants and tugged them off her lush hips as she wiggled to help him. He stopped for a moment and stared at her with that same intensity in his eyes, still dangerous, but focused on something other than violence as he unbuttoned his own pants and shoved them down his hips and stepped out of them. He went commando and Darcy’s eye’s locked on his erection as she licked her lips, drawing a groan from the man. 

“Come here.” She whispered as he stayed still a moment longer, just out of her reach. He moved, one hand going around behind her neck to pull her face to his in a crushing kiss, the other hand pushing her panties aside to dip a finger into her center, already wet enough to take him without a problem. Darcy wasn’t the kind of woman to let him have all the fun, though, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and pulled slowly eliciting a dark growl from him that made her nip at his lower lip. 

James let go of her neck to rip her underwear and pull her to the edge of the counter, lining his hips with hers and, with her fist guiding his cock, entered her slowly. So slowly Darcy was half afraid she was going to stop breathing as she moved both hands to his shoulders and bit his adam's apple sharply. In response he pulled half out and slammed his hips forward into her in a single, sharp motion that had her moaning in delight. 

It was frantic movements, their hips stuttering into one another as his flesh hand carded into her hair and his metal hand pulled her almost all the way off the counter as he set a brutal pace that had both of them sweating and groaning in very little time. Darcy’s heels were held hard against the back of James’ thighs and she’d knocked her head against the cabinet twice as she kept pace with the super soldier. He started losing his rhythm and Darcy pushed back hard, scraping her nails up his back again and watching him gasp. He knew what she was up to, though, moving his metal hand between their bodies to press his finger against her clit and rub tiny circles even as he gripped her hair an inch from her scalp and gave a controlled yank that dropped her head back and had her chasing the edge of an orgasm. 

“Don’t. Stop.” She gasped, her hips stuttering and abdominal muscles she hadn’t properly used in years aching as her head knocked into the cabinet again and James flicked her clit sharply, making all her muscles go tight as the orgasm rolled through her and her breath stalled out in her chest and she forgot how to breathe. James wasn’t far behind her, putting both hands on her hips as he slammed his hips into hers, one thumb stretched out to rub teasingly at her clit still as he forced her into a second orgasm even as his own overtook him and he pulled Darcy into his chest to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her hair as he shuddered and moaned, Darcy’s muscles spasming around him. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Darcy leaned back and James instantly let go. 

“Well.” She said, muscles loose and breathing heavy as she looked at him. He was breathing a little heavier as well, his skin shimmering with sweat. Her legs were still loosely tucked around his hips and it should have been awkward, but she didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all. 

“This, I.” James stopped and cleared his throat, pink coming to his cheeks. “This was nice, thank you.” He told her after a moment. She raised an eyebrow and let out a sharp laugh. 

“Nice? Seriously?” She tightened her legs around him and rolled her hips. “Your dick is still in me and we are both naked and just defiled the communal kitchen. This was a dirty fantasy come to life. Thank _you_.” She informed him before letting her legs fall loose and scooting back on the counter. 

“What does this mean?” He asked as she hopped off the counter and swayed for a moment as she realized she might be walking funny for the next half hour or so. She cut a look over to him and paused, unsure of what to say. 

He and Steve. Her and Steve. Their baggage. 

“I don’t know.” She was honest as she snagged her pants up off the floor and pulled them on. “I don’t know if I want to know right now. It was nice. I wanted to feel something that wasn’t … whatever. Now I’m going to leave you to clean up our mess so I can go take a shower and hopefully get some sleep.” She nodded once as he stayed silent and just watched her. He didn’t speak and so after a long pause Darcy turned and walked back to her own suite as she tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever done. 

James watched her go before beginning to clean up. 

“Mr. Barnes, the Captain is calling for you.” Friday informed him after a moment. 

“Tell him I’m busy, and get rid of any footage of Darcy and I from here.” He asked the AI after another pause. 

“Of course.” Friday agreed, not bothering to remind the man of her privacy protocols. He was obviously distracted by what had just happened. Friday was also aware enough to know that Sir would be quite upset he was not the first person to break in the kitchen, as it were.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time from James' point of view.

“Are you mad at me?” Steve was staring at him with those wounded blue eyes again and James swallowed the bite of cereal he’d been chewing. He shook his head and then took another bite of the Raisin Bran he had decided to try. Clint liked to eat it, probably because the box was purple. The archer seemed fond of the color. 

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me and I want you to know you can talk to me about anything.” Steve continued, moving a bit closer and sitting on a stool beside the assassin. That was what James was, despite his friend’s stringent denials. He had been molded into a perfect specimen for the killing of other humans. Remembering what he was before that time didn’t change what he was now. 

“Do you want to talk about Darcy Lewis?” James asked after chewing and swallowing another bite, turning his own blue eyes on Steve. They were a study in opposites. Clean shaven, neat hair, perfectly chiseled jaw and straight nose with clear, blue eyes and an easy smile. Scruffy, long haired, turbulent gray-blue eyes, neatly sloped nose, and down-turned lips. Dark and light, not just with their hair and eyes, but with their personalities. Dawn and dusk. 

“I told you, I broke it off because you needed me more.” Steve’s voice dropped a bit. He did that when he was disappointed in someone, himself included. He was right, too, and that bothered James more than he wanted it to. James had needed Steve to give him an anchor in a world that wouldn’t stop spinning and jolting around him. 

“You said you were in love with her.” James noted, taking another bite and trying not to let his emotions bleed through. He felt something for her, which was to be expected. Two nights ago had been … intense. He hadn’t quite worked through all of his thoughts and emotions regarding what happened with Darcy, and she’d been avoiding him so he wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk it out with her. She’d seemed fine in the afterglow (was that the right term?) and he hadn’t known what he’d expected, but avoidance wasn’t it. 

“I was.” Steve wasn’t looking at him now, he’d turned away, hands clasped together on the marble counter. “A part of me still loves her. She’s bright and happy and innocent.” The super soldier sighed heavily and turned back to Bucky, his face drawn as though this conversation pained him. “Buck, you and me? We said til the end of the line, and that line is still going. What we had was everything. What I had with Darcy? That was something, but it can’t compare.” He moved his hand to Bucky’s arm. 

Maybe once upon a time when the two of them had been those Brooklyn boys without soulmates it had been fine. What they’d had was strong as steel, as strong as the labor they put into making it work. Then he’d fallen. Sometimes he had a flash of Steve’s face, looking like his world was disappearing, as he fell from that train. Maybe that was why Steve had taken the easy way out, driven the nose of the plane deep into the ocean and hadn’t even tried to swim free. 

It had been 70 years, though, and James wasn’t the same man. Neither was Steve, despite how hard he tried sometimes. They had grown and it wasn’t a comfortable, easy growth. There were thorns and strangling vines, emotional hurt which had never been comforted. They couldn’t just fall into those roles they’d only just been figuring out while surrounded by the Howling Commandos. Where James wasn’t the protector any longer, but Steve was still the little guy picking fights with the bigger bullies. 

James finished the bowl of cereal and stood up, walking to the sink and rinsing out the bowl before turning back to Steve, recognizing this was a conversation that needed to happen. He’d been talking it over with his therapist, a man who was surprisingly not afraid of him. Of course he was also a man well armed and ready to shoot James with a tranquilizer should the need appear. 

“The line did end, Steve.” James replied after turning and leaning his hips back against the counter. “You quit.” He was looking straight at the other man and saw those overly expressive eyes widen in shock and denial even before he started shaking his head. James continued on, needing to get his thoughts out now before he clammed up again. “I knew you’d do something stupid without me, and I lived. What happened after I lived isn’t your fault, and it wasn’t even really living so much as existing.” He swallowed, trying to find the right words to convey everything. 

“Buck, if I’d known-” Steve started and stopped, his shoulders slumping uselessly as James held up his flesh hand.

“You want me to be this person I’m not. I can’t be the Bucky you loved.” James told him, his eyes calm and his heart leaping against his chest hard enough to hurt. “The universe knew all along that we weren’t meant to be.” James didn’t need to point at the words tracing up his forearm, Steve’s eyes were already locked on them, his jaw tensing with jealousy and sadness. _Oh, man! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!_ the words had been so excited, so happy, and then he’d pushed her away. She’d been happy for James, happy for Steve, and then he’d told her he would only bring her pain and Steve had swept past her and James had turned to him for comfort. 

James had needed an anchor, someone to lead him back to the now. He’d thought that person was Steve, but Steve could only lead him to an unhappy ending which had long since passed. The rest of the team had been more help, Clint especially. The man had been brainwashed himself once, and while it hadn’t been to the extent James had undergone, it was still good to have someone who understood. Natasha, ever protective at the archer’s back, helped as well. Her sharp gaze and willingness to put a knife to his throat should he twitch in a manner she deemed untoward made him feel safer. Like he could let himself relax, test his capabilities. Like he could trust this new reality. 

James had hurt Darcy, a woman who was supposed to be his equal. Supposed to be his partner. Whether romance was involved or not he should have respected her, been there for her as she tried to be there for him. She had been, always there and smiling even when the happiness was a false front. Offering words of support through her own pain as he collapsed against Steve’s chest trying to breathe through the pain of experiments and memories and phantom hands pushing electricity into his frayed nerves. She had been there, eyes of midnight blue and long, loose curls, watching without judgement. 

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? She just accepted him without judgement. He took everything that mattered from her. Her sense of safety, her happiness, her comfort. He took it and she acknowledged that he needed it more than he did and didn’t argue. When she’d been taken he’d been beside himself. He’d wanted to go right out, snatch her back, and destroy everyone who had dared breathing the same air as her. He’d wanted to burn the world to ash. 

It was in that moment he’d realized she was his and he didn’t want to share. That Steve, while helping on some levels, was actually hindering his development. It had been an intense revelation, one which had taken a week or so to really verbalize with Steve. They’d only been intimate the first week since he came in from the cold, as Natasha was calling it. She said it was tradition, no one argued. 

One instance of brutal sex that was more punishing than comforting, several nights where Steve held him while he cried and tried not to scream. More nights where he and Steve had beat the ever loving shit out of each other in their inability to speak their feelings. Nights of cold, bitter silence where neither was sure how to tell the other why they were unhappy. They were a mess. They didn’t belong together, not anymore. Not for a long time. 

“I had sex with Darcy.” James continued, dropping his arm and staring straight into the eyes of the man in front of him. His chest tightened when Steve flinched back, but he wouldn’t take back the words. Wouldn’t take back the night. 

“I’m happy for you.” The words didn’t match his pained tone or the anguished look on his face, but Steve was trying. He’d just always been shit at poker. His pain hurt James, the part of him that was maybe still Bucky. 

“I don’t know if I love her.” It was all he could offer the man who claimed to love him. Perhaps Steve didn’t understand love either, though. James was drawn to Darcy, wanted to protect her, to give her what he could of himself so she understood he just wanted her safe. Wanted to sit quietly in her room so she could sleep through the night. Wanted to hold her while she screamed into his shoulder instead of screaming into a pillow. Wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t because he didn’t know how. 

“Do you love me?” Steve’s voice, so small and desperate, made him focus back on the man. He had once, he knew that. He had loved him when love was easy and living was as well. He’d loved him when they were dancing with bullets in a field of fire and laughing just to be alive. He knew this to be an unshakable truth, but he didn’t know if he loved him now. 

James didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to tell his friend that he didn’t need to fake emotions he wasn’t feeling. James didn’t want him pretending about anything because he didn’t always understand real and made up emotions, because emotions were confusing and painful and too much most of the time already. That he was desperately trying to figure out where he was in all of this and just couldn’t figure out anything and was half sure he was messing everything up. He certainly didn’t know how to tell him that he wasn’t sure if he loved Steve or not when it was so obvious that Steve loved him. Instead he turned and walked back to his room, not saying anything at all. 

Words were hard. Emotions were hard. Life was hard. Sometimes he missed the days when other people thought for him. It was a dark, secret thought he didn’t dare give voice to.


	5. Part 5

Darcy was sitting on the balcony, a bottle of vodka dangling from one hand and her phone in the other as she scrolled through the photo album on her phone, staring at each picture as though memorizing it before moving on to the next. There she was with Steve, not even a year ago, he was helping her blow out the candles on her birthday cake and they had both been smiling. Happy. Honestly happy. There she was putting a birthday hat on him, it was hot pink and he’d been laughing and not at all surprised with her antics. There he was stealing a bite of her cake after he’d already eaten his own gigantic piece. 

They’d been happy and obviously in love. Now he maybe still loved her, but he wasn’t _in_ love with her, but he was maybe in love with her soulmate, whom she had no idea her own feelings on. She’d fucked him in the kitchen because she wanted the ghost hands of that man off of her. To feel something that didn’t make her choke in fear and want to hide in a corner and sob until she passed out from exhaustion. She’d just needed … him. She’d needed James Barnes in that moment and he’d been there. 

She raised the bottle to her lips and took a deep pull, no longer caring about the burn. She’d long since moved past that. There was a picture of Clint pressing a kiss to her cheek while Steve shoved him off playfully and pulled Darcy closer. There was Jane tugging her away from both men. Jane was the absolute best. A smile tipped her lips up as she thought of her best friend. They’d been on some wild adventures since they met. It was like the Universe had known they would need each other for support before all the crazy shit went down. They’d faced down two alien incursions, two thoroughly broken hearts, and two … could she call what had happened to Jane with the dark matter a form of torture? Darcy decided on yes. 

She’d had this perfect seeming specimen, had this man who adored her and put her before anyone else. Had fallen hard and fast and wanted nothing more than for him to be happy and being with her made him happy. It was all so … perfect. And then it wasn’t. 

She’d almost literally bumped into him on the street, had been so excited to recognize Bucky Barnes, but he wasn’t Bucky. He wasn’t the man who had died falling from a train. He wasn’t the man that Steve spoke of with such raw emotion. Bucky had died. Now there was James. The two were alike, but different. She’d recognized that immediately and wanted to help however she could. She should have done as Jane suggested and kept away until things were smoother, but … well, but she was a fucking idiot, wasn’t she? 

Her face screwed up in anger as she pulled her hand back and threw her phone at the stone wall, watching the electronic bounce back and fall hard to the pavement, bouncing back toward her with a cracked screen. Fuck the phone. She sniffed hard, refusing to let her eyes grow more moist than they already were. She wasn’t going to cry over this. She wouldn’t cry over any of this. She brought the vodka to her mouth and poured, wanting her feelings to go quiet. 

The door opened behind her with a whisper of sound and then closed again with a gentle click. She didn’t look, though her shoulders grew tight until the person came around to where she could see them. James. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. She turned just a little bit, fitting her back into the corner of the seat so she could face him as he sat in one of the other chairs. She’d kind of been expecting him to show up and tell her that the other night was a mistake. It was why she’d been avoiding him. 

They stared at each other in tense silence. Darcy because she didn’t want to speak first and James because he didn’t know what to say. She lifted the bottle to lips and took another pull, not offering him any. She planned to get blindingly drunk and pass out at some point. It was how she was dealing with sleepless nights since the whole kitchen incident. 

“I told Steve.” James blurted in the midst of trying to decide what the right words and wrong words were and how they might impact the woman in front of him. 

“Awesome.” Her tone was antagonistic and far more direct than she’d been with him in their previous interactions. James wondered how much alcohol she’d consumed already, but knew better than to ask. 

“I had to tell him.” James went on, his mouth opening to continue speaking but no more words coming out. He closed it after a moment, frowning as he tried to figure out what was going on with him. He had the words. He had considered what to say for quite some time before coming to her, and yet here he was and he had the words, but he couldn’t make them come out. Was this fear? 

“Of course you did.” She sighed heavily and brought her empty hand to her face. His eyes strayed to her phone, lying mangled on the ground. “And now you’re here to tell me it didn’t mean anything, that you and Steve are meant to be and the universe or god or whatever doesn’t know what it was talking about when it paired us.” 

“No.” He stared at her, no emotion on his face. He could do that, hide his thoughts behind a blank mask. He’d been able to do that long before Hydra had put an actual mask over his face. He reached forward to take the vodka before he’d realized he meant to do it, but Darcy was pulling back, a sneer on her lips. 

“Having sex doesn’t make us soulmates, nor does it give you permission to tell me what to do.” She pushed herself further back into the corner, though it didn’t put her out of reach of the assassin. 

“The words make us soulmates.” Bucky told her, trying to remember what he’d practiced. The words he had so carefully cultivated to make her understand his thoughts and feelings. She laughed harshly, though it sounded suspiciously like a sob, and nodded once before tipping her head back and pouring more of the booze down her throat. 

“I don’t understand a lot of things.” He informed her, going to the words he knew in the hopes that they would lessen the hurt she was feeling. She gave him a look that he took to mean she was quite aware of this. She had a very expressive face. “I don’t understand myself, or my feelings, and I don’t understand love.” 

“None of us understand love, not really.” Darcy assured him, shaking her head and sighing more softly this time. He took it as a positive sign, her instant need to reassure him. She did it without thinking, which meant she cared, right? 

“I do not know if I love Steve.” He informed her, saying words he had definitely not practiced. He closed his mouth and clenched his jaw, swallowing hard and wondering where those words had come from. What did they mean? No, they meant what the sounded like. 

“Neither do I.” She told him after a few seconds of silence, one side of her mouth pulled up as her eyes started to fill with tears. 

“I do not know if I love you.” He offered her, more hesitant this time. She lifted her eyes to his and nodded, blinking rapidly to clear the tears. 

“I get that.” She nodded, sounding less hurt than he had anticipated. 

“Steve is easy to love. He throws himself into something and doesn’t think twice about it. He gives everything he has to everyone who asks. I think everyone who meets him falls in love with him a little bit.” Darcy told him, setting the vodka on the table and shoving it toward him. A peace offering. “But he isn’t easy to trust. He doesn’t think about how breakable the rest of us are. He sees the world in black and white, right and wrong, everything a sharp contrast. The rest of us live in color. Shades and shadows and choices that change everything. He’s selfish, too. He doesn’t even realize it most of the time, how selfish he is. He just knows best and expects everyone to agree and go on as such.” She’d been thinking about it a lot that evening. 

“Yes.” James nodded, remembering the punk he’d met so long ago who’d gone after every bully he found to prove to everyone else how wrong they were about him. Broke his mother’s heart every time. Broke Bucky’s too, later. It didn’t matter, though, because Steve had something to prove and if they were going to support him they had to keep quiet and just accept that this was who he was, the little guy that fought the bigger guy and didn’t notice how scared the people he claimed to love were. 

“He’s not as bad as he was, but I think he’s still … emotionally stunted. And yet here we are, a mess because of how much we love him. Loved him. Whatever it is we feel.” Darcy shook her head again, this time from disgust at the mess that was their whatever it was. 

“I’m not with Steve. I wasn’t when we …” He trailed off, unsure of how to put it. What they’d done wasn’t making love. It was something more primal, they’d been giving and taking comfort in the basest sense. 

“When we were defiling the kitchen?” Darcy offered, her mouth tipping up in a sardonic grin. He looked up, blinking at her as he tried to figure out if he was alright with that definition. 

“Steve and I only had sex once, and it was a mistake.” James informed her after taking a deep, fortifying breath. Darcy raised both her eyebrows and blinked twice before leaning back. 

“I was positive that you were going to tell me that _our_ sex was the mistake.” She told him, blinking again. Since she had told him this already he pulled the vodka closer to him, eyeing the label. 

“I don’t know how to make you feel better.” He told her, choosing honesty as they right direction. She was his soulmate. She was on his side. She had been from the start. 

“I don’t know if you can make me feel better.” She informed him, also being honest. Perhaps that was the inebriation and perhaps it was the hours spent trying to figure out her own tangled emotions in regards to Steve and James. 

“I feel like I need to, though,” He replied, eyebrows furrowing. 

“That’s not how it works.” Her voice was gentle, almost a whisper as she watched him with a fond smile, despite the pain in her eyes. She was too easy to read, too soft. He wanted to wrap her in armor and keep her in the tower. She couldn’t take care of herself like the rest of them. He didn’t know how to take care of her. 

“How does it work?” He needed more information. He needed her to smile, to laugh, to stop looking like everything she did hurt, but it was partially his fault that she did. He took Steve from her and kept her at arm’s length. These were facts that kept repeating themselves in his mind whenever he thought about her. How he hurt her. 

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out, ok?” She let her head fall back and his eyes strayed to the pale column of her throat. His hand tingled, wanting to reach out and caress the soft skin. To taste the hollow spot just under her clavicle. He blinked, eyebrows furrowing at the unbidden thought. Darcy’s head lifted again and she sighed, turning toward him. Then her gaze narrowed in on his, reading him in the moment with something like wonder or disbelief . 

“Please do.” He cleared his throat and looked away from her knowing eyes. 

“This is my cue to make a responsible decision and head to bed. Though the irony of the situation is not lost on me.” She laughed, a sound without humor, and stood up, stumbling over her feet. James was at her side in an instant and she flinched away from him, shaking her head. 

“I just… may I help you inside?” He asked. She sighed heavily as she looked up into his earnest eyes and her own filled with tears as she shook her head. 

“No. It’s best if you don’t.” She wanted to cling to him, to hold him close and let him try and soothe her fears, but what good would that do any of them? And why the hell couldn’t she be a normal drunk and just do whatever felt good?!

“Goodnight, Darcy.” James whispered as she stumbled through the doors. She didn’t respond, the door was closing behind her. 

“Friday, can you get Thor?” She wanted her Thor shaped person. She walked, slow and unsteady, across the room. 

“Darcy?” That wasn’t Thor, that was Steve. Both tall and blond, but definitely not the same person. 

“Fuck me.” She groaned, collapsing into the chair she’d been using to navigate around the table. 

“Apparently you’ve already been doing that.” The words were out of his mouth, bitter and unfair, before he even realized he was responding. The woman didn’t deserve it, he knew that, but he didn’t try to take the words back. He’d been looking for Bucky, wanting to continue their conversation. He wanted to tell James it was okay if he didn’t love Steve, that he could be patient. 

“I’d ask if you’re jealous, but we both already know the answer.” That was Darcy all over, hitting back right where it hurts. 

“He needed me more than you did, I told you that. You said it was fine.” Steve reminded her, sure that what he’d done was the right thing, even now when all three of them were hurting and confused. 

“What the hell was I supposed to say?” She shouted, eyes wide as she stared at the man incredulously. Steve’s head reared back as he stared at her, clearly surprised. 

“The truth would have been nice,” He bit out, recognizing the warning signs in Darcy’s face. They’d had their fights while dating, shouting matches which were more verbal evisceration than arguments, but always ended with makeup sex and a simple apology. 

“The truth? Which one? That I was trying to help my soulmate and he didn’t want me and it hurt me more than anything else I’ve ever felt? That the man I was in love with didn’t so much as give me a second look once his ex, my soulmate, came back? That I wanted you to be happy since the first day I met you and I suddenly realized I never really made you happy? That my heart cracked when James told me he didn’t want me and then you smashed it to pieces directly afterwards? Is that what you wanted me to tell you while you were so obviously wrapped up in helping James get better and didn’t want to be distracted by the little things?” Darcy asked, pushing herself up again to sway slightly in front of him. No way was she doing this sitting down while he towered over her. No way in hell. 

“You knew I loved him, that wasn’t a surprise. I told you that right off!” He was shouting back, as was once their norm. He _had_ told her that Bucky was the love of his life, that Peggy had wormed her way in, but they were the only two he’d really felt he could love before Darcy. He’d put it all out on the table for her when they’d started dating. 

“I knew you loved _me_!” And now she was actively crying as she shouted, because this was the crux of it. Darcy could love more than one person, she had that capacity, but Steve apparently didn’t. Gods she was way too drunk to have this conversation. 

“I do love you, Darcy,” Steve assured her, his face stricken as he moved a step forward and she stepped back, falling into the couch as a hand cushioned her head from bouncing off the back. She looked up, James was looking at Steve instead of her, his hand pushing her gently forward once more. He'd come in when they'd started shouting, unsure of what to do or if he should do anything. Darcy jerked away from him, climbing clumsily off the couch and toward the hall as her gaze moved from one to the other. 

“I don’t believe you, Steve.” She informed the blond, decided to focus on the less confusing one. 

“My Lady Darcy?” Thor’s voice was calm, his assessing gaze taking in the scene he’d listened to on his way down the hall. He hadn’t hurried, feeling there were things that needed to be in the open. His human companions were mere infants compared to him, and often did not realize their arguments and talks were important to their emotional development. Indeed, many seemed to think they stopped growing once reaching this mythic “adulthood” they seemed so enamored of. Responsibility was not an easy task, and each dealt with that hardship in their own ways. Steven, for all that he was a great leader in battle, did not always handle himself with honor outside of the battlefield and war rooms. He was very young yet, despite his birth year. 

“Can I stay with you guys?” Darcy demanded, her face wet with tears and her voice as thick as a hurt child as she threw herself as his chest.Thor wrapped an arm about her shoulders, pulling her into his chest to give her what comfort her could. 

“Of course.” Then, because she was obviously deep in her cups, he lifted her into his arms and shot both of the men in front of him an unamused look before turning and walking back to his own suite where his Jane would hover and mother their friend until she fell asleep.


	6. Part 6

Life was confusing and exhausting these days. Once upon a time Darcy had known how to just roll with the punches. It was why she was still working with Jane, actually. Jane had shown her a whole universe of possibilities. They had watched the sky rip open, withstood two alien incursions on foot without weapons, and come out the other side. Her internship, thanks to SHIELD, had actually given her more than the six science credits she’d been expecting. That had made things interesting when she’d been sent her transcripts and diploma. 

She called herself an intern for years after she hadn’t really been anything more than a friend who took care the things Jane was too busy to take care of. It was fun, an adventure, even. She’d gotten herself an intern (she’d used Jane’s credentials to get Jane an intern, really, but where was the fun in explaining that?) and put him to use. He’d been brought to SI after the London Incident, of course, and now he gave her these little looks every so often. Like he wasn’t sure if he was fond of her or afraid of her. She found it adorable. 

It was better than what a lot of the Lab Assistants did. There were a few who had no problem insinuating that she’d lucked into her position and then hooked up with Steve to cement her place. Like she wasn’t damn good at taking care of the people put in her trust. She fed, she watered, she fixed equipment, headed off arguments, typed out their messy notes, input data, and took over social media to generate more attention and get them better funding. Yeah, that was all Darcy. 

“Come on, we’re going out.” Darcy’s coat was tossed over her computer monitor and the young woman lifted dark blue eyes to her best friend. Jane had both eyebrows raised, as though daring the younger woman to argue with her. Darcy instead saved her work, locked her work station, and put on her coat. 

“Where are we going?” She asked as Jane’s finger hit the button for the lobby. They could have asked Friday, but if the button was available and their hands weren’t full it was a little rude. It was even stranger because they wouldn’t of had a problem doing that to Jarvis, who was now Vision (sort of?) and living at the Avenger’s Facility instead of the tower. 

“Ladies night.” Jane informed her, glancing at her Lab Manager when Darcy cleared her throat loudly. “It’s just around the corner, you know most of the people who will be there.” She assured the girl, rubbing her hand up the younger woman’s arm and smiling. “It will be fine.” 

And it was time for Darcy to get out. Almost five months and she was still having panic attacks and nightmares. She didn’t like leaving the tower if she didn’t have to, something made easier by Tony’s need to enable her by adding her apartment’s grocery bill to the Tower’s bill so everything she wanted could be delivered. It was the only way he knew to show affection, though; throwing money at someone and giving them whatever random thing they asked for. It was why Rhodey had gotten his own suit of armor. It was why Pepper was given the entirety of Stark Industries, and why he had fixed the helicarriers. He cared about people, well, with Fury it was more of a “thanks for finding that cure!”, but still. 

“Right, just around the corner.” Darcy pulled her coat around her nodded her head while Jane gave her an encouraging nod and then hooked her elbow through Darcy’s. Not even five minutes from the door of the Tower to the door of the pub. Inside Darcy could see she did recognize almost everyone. She was hailed by a few of the waitresses with a “long time no see!” and given a beer as soon as they took up the tiny table in the corner so Darcy could put her back to the wall. 

“See, this is nice, right?” Jane was smiling that encouraging smile again, her dark amber eyes hopeful. 

“Yeah.” Darcy nodded, pasting on a smile that wasn’t as fake as she’d thought it would be. Look at that, growing as a person and shit. She’d finally started seeing a therapist after the drunken night where she’d sort of talked to James. It was helping, Jane certainly approved. 

“Good! Now we can chat, girls only. Just like New Mexico.” Jane was smiling that sweet, hopeful smile that lit up her eyes and Darcy had to smile back. They’d had some of the strangest and most introspective talks when they’d first met. Two girls alone in the desert chasing the stars. 

“What kind of chat?” The younger woman asked gamely, taking a sip of her beer and smiling a bit more as Jane stared at her blankly for a moment, blinking rapidly. 

“I’ve got nothing.” The scientist announced after a moment, taking a few deep gulps from her own beer. For a tiny thing the woman knew how to hold her ale. It was totally one of Thor’s kinks, you could tell by the way he watched her pour booze down her throat. It was both awkward and adorable. 

“Okay, we can start with boys.” Darcy offered. “I’m still not talking Steve, or he’s not talking to me, I haven’t quite figured it out yet.” 

“Want me to ask Thor to kick his ass in training tomorrow?” Jane offered immediately, completely serious. Darcy laughed out loud, surprising herself. 

“Not right now, maybe some other time.” She decided, still chuckling. The Avenger’s were all out of the Tower at the moment, instead training at their new facility, far away from civilians. For the best, really, when she thought about it. That was where the majority of Jane’s research equipment was as well, but Jane had come back to the Tower for Darcy. 

It was dumb, really, from Darcy’s way of thinking, but she was Jane’s best friend and they’d been together for five years now. They were family. They kept each other in check, knew what the other needed often without thinking. Jane was the kind of woman who moved Heaven and Earth for the people she loved. She’d figured out how to (theoretically) rip a hole in space and time to get the man she loved back to her side. She’d had Darcy a lot longer than she’d had Thor considering she’d had him a few days and then hadn’t seen him again for a couple years. 

“It’s weird not sharing a bed with Thor sometimes. I get used to a giant space heater taking up most of the bed, you know?” Jane mentioned after a moment, her face scrunched up to show she was a little embarrassed at the admission. 

“Whatever, I’ve walked in on you two enough times to know you use him as a body pillow. That’s what you miss,” Darcy counter with a crooked grin. Jane opened her mouth to issue a denial and then clamped her lips shut and shrugged. It was true. The two dissolved into familiar laughter and suddenly the world felt lighter to the younger woman. The words flowed and they talked like they hadn’t in months. About anything and everything that came to mind. They shared knowing looks as they spotted people they worked with, had silly arguments that led to further laughter. 

It was a girl’s night like they’d had before Darcy’s world had come tumbling down. She had the sudden revelation that Jane was her person. Jane should have been her soulmate. She _was_ her soulmate. The platonic sister from another mister who got her like no one else in the universe ever could. Fate had brought them together and nothing could ever shake them apart. 

“I love you, lady.” She informed the other woman as they both took back their cards from the waitress. Jane looked up, eyebrows lifted high in pleasant surprise. 

“I love you, too.” She told her, that small, pleased smile spreading across her pretty face and making Darcy want to pinch her cheeks. 

“Now I have to pee. Let’s go!” She tucked her arm through Jane’s, walking them both to the bathroom in sister solidarity (because who else will you talk to while you pee, a stranger? Okay, yeah, she’s totally done that and more than once, but she’s not leaving Jane alone with drunk scientists).

Also because she maybe didn’t want to go to the bathroom alone. 

Jane was a good sport, laughing and using the stall next to Darcy like it was no big deal. Maybe it wasn’t to the scientist, they’d done this a thousand times over the last five years and it had never seemed like a big deal with Darcy before. Funny how little things could change and make a small, standard action become something huge and meaningful. 

“Hey Dr. Foster.” The cute blonde at the sink was smiling and ignoring Darcy, as per usual. 

“Hey Suzi.” Jane gave her a quick smile and then focused on her hands. Darcy and Suzi didn’t get along. The young woman was a lab assistant who actually understood quantum mathematics without needing to google terminology as Jane spouted off information. She was good for the team, a definite boon. However she thought very little of Darcy and was open in her condescension and need to explain how the other woman could maybe do a better job of dealing with … well, everything. 

Usually Darcy ignored her and pictured taking her down with a taser or maybe a chair to the face. Who the hell spelled their name like that, anyhow? And she was always smiling a bright perky smile. It would have rubbed Darcy the wrong way even if the other woman wasn’t such a freaking twat waffle all the time. 

“Lewis.” Of course she had to notice Darcy and say something. Darcy, being the adult she was, lifted a hand and flipped the woman off. Fuck it, they weren’t at work, she could go suck a necrotic nut. Sadly, that was the last thought that really registered as the blond stopped smiling (finally!) and set a small device over her nose and and mouth, watching Darcy from above. Above? Wait, she was on the floor. Where was Jane? 

“Jane?” Her eyes blinked open, but everything was fuzzy. She didn’t have her glasses and her head was stuffed with cotton. She felt a pinch in her neck and voices arguing over the top of her, but she couldn’t make out their words or their faces. 

She was opening her eyes again, she felt like all she’d done was blink, but she was all too familiar with her current predicament. The feel of metal around her ankles and wrists, the cool air on bare limbs. She came to herself with a violent start, jerking hard against the chains as she crouched and looked wildly about her before taking stock. Bare walls, one large mirror. Chains. Door. The mirror was in front of her, the door behind. The chains weren’t more than three feet in length. She wasn’t wearing pants or a shirt. 

The shivers started immediately. Not again, not again. She didn’t feel different, didn’t look different in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, there was a bruise on her temple, okay the bruise was new, but she bruised easily. It was a side effect of being so pale. 

“Jane!” She screamed it as loud as she could, her body shaking as she wrapped her fingers around the chains holding her arms. The chains rattled with the force of her shudders. “Jane!” She was screaming again. They had both been in that bathroom, Jane was who they wanted, not Darcy, so Jane had to be here. 

“Darcy!” The cry wasn’t as loud, but it was close. She dove forward, trying to get to the window, but she couldn’t reach and stumbled as the chain pulled tight. 

“Jane? Are you in there?” She was crying, relieved and afraid in equal parts as she focused on the sound of her friends voice. 

“Yes. Why are you … Darcy are you okay?” Jane’s voice firmed up toward the end, she was forcing herself to focus. Darcy knew that tone well. 

“I’m fine. Are you okay?” Darcy was asking, pulling futilely on the chains. 

“I’m fine.” Jane assured her, projecting confidence into her voice for the sake of her friend as she watched Darcy start to rock and bite her lip as she yanked harder at the chains. 

“Janey, we have to get you out of here.” Darcy informed her, focusing on her words friend instead of the panic that was clawing up her throat, trying to devour her. She stared at the chains, slightly rusted on the outside, but still strong enough to hold a young woman without much strength of her own. 

“Dr. Foster won’t be going anywhere.” The voice was one which had been haunting her for months. Darcy lifted her eyes to the mirror, gaze catching on the figure coming through the door behind her. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to scream. She wanted to wake up from the nightmare that was her life. 

“Get away from her!” Jane was screaming through the glass and from the rattling of the mirror, distorting his image in horrifying ways, her chains were longer than Darcy’s. 

“You are far more interesting than I previously thought.” The man was smiling, like he hadn’t destroyed her sense of safety. “The Winter Soldier? Our Asset was never one for connections before, but I’ve been told he even spurned the illustrious Captain for you.” His smile still didn’t reach his cold, dead eyes. 

“Darcy!” Jane was still screaming, but Darcy couldn’t make a sound. She couldn’t even breath. She was hot and cold all at once and her heart was pounding so hard it was making her vision gray out at the edge. She couldn’t turn around to face him. The reflection could be a lie, the words could be her imagination. If she turned around and saw him … this would all be real. Her shaking grew worse and she dropped hard to her knees, collapsing like a puppet without strings. 

“Oh no, my dear, don’t give up now.” He was toying with her, his voice full of cheerful malice. “We have so much catching up to do.” There was a large hand on her upper arm, jerking her up, but not strong enough to pull her all the way to her feet as she turned and met pale green eyes. “I never did thank you for that parting gift.” He lifted his hand to her ear, carelessly yanking the small silver hoop out of her ear, ripping the lobe. 

She wanted to be strong, wanted to prove that he didn’t scare her, but he did. She didn’t even know his name, and yet he’d destroyed her life. She wanted to cry with pain, to shake her head and be tough for Jane, who was still screaming and banging on the mirror, but instead her vision went gray and she passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! You can find us over on Tumblr (where I'm still figuring shit out)! [MsDamia](http://msdamia.tumblr.com/) and [Tiziano](http://tiziano12.tumblr.com/)


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of it all.

James was prowling. They’d locked him in the containment room for Hulk when he’d tried to fight Steve for telling him he couldn’t come with them on the rescue mission. Darcy had been taken again. She was still recovering from the last time and she _needed_ him. He knew this in a visceral sort of way he couldn’t explain. She needed him to save her and he needed to be there to save her. He needed her safe at his side and he needed it right the fuck now. Since he couldn’t have that he wanted a glock in each hand and to put a bullet through the forehead of anyone who dared get between him and his soulmate. 

 

So he stalked along the edges of the room, screaming wordlessly in his rage and slamming a hand against the clear panels of the wall every few moments. She was hurt and her pain caused him distress, great distress. His heart was pounding, his head was starting to hurt, and he was having a hard time breathing. It was like when Stevie was still little and hadn’t been able to breathe. What had he done then? What was it? 

 

James collapsed against the wall, one leg stretched out, the other folded up to his chest as he put his hands over his head and started to rock back and forth. He had to breathe, he had to breathe. He couldn’t help her, he couldn’t do anything. He was useless, nothing but a weapon no one knew how to use. He couldn’t even help himself, let alone Darcy. James focused on his breathing, every puff of air an agony.

 

In a Hydra facility somewhere in upper New York, Darcy was waking up strapped to a chair, a mouthguard jammed between her teeth. Her eyes were wild again, heart pounding against her chest as she pulled against the restraints. A muffled sob had her craning her head up and her eyes going to another chair. Jane was in the same room this time, locked down to a desk chair, tears of rage and fear staining her red cheeks and sweat damp hair, a rag tied around her face and mouth. They weren’t in the same kind of chair. Darcy looked around, looking at the equipment surrounding her and the strange device over her head. 

 

“Oh good, you’re awake.” He was back. Green eyes cheerful, which was perhaps the scariest part of everything going on at the moment. Darcy spit out the mouth guard. 

 

“If you let us go now they might not kill you. You’ll have enough time to get away.” She was talking quickly and not sure if he would even listen. All she knew were Jane’s big brown eyes full of fear and the frantic beating of her own heart. 

 

“They didn’t kill me last time.” He reminded her, still pleasant and excited as he flipped a few switches and the machinery hummed to life. 

 

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asked, trying not to choke on the saliva filling her mouth and warning her that her fear was close to making her puke. 

 

“You’ve met the Asset. I assume you know of his conditioning?” The man asked, still pleasant. As he stayed in such an obviously good mood Darcy grew more and more panicked. He’d been cold as ice while touching her and speaking about her rape. He’d felt nothing. Yet now, now with this … and James and Jane. Darcy closed her eyes and swallowed hard, pressing herself hard against the chair. 

 

“So you want to wipe me?” She asked, her voice cracking a bit as she looked over at Jane, who was shaking her head at the younger woman. James didn’t like beds or chairs in the medical facilities for a reason. He didn’t like the bands people needed to put around his arms and flinched when the lights were pointed toward his face. It wasn’t too hard a leap. 

 

“Well, I want to try one to see how it takes. Often a true mind wipe takes many months, it’s the pain, you see.” He adjusted the thing above her head so it would come down around her head. “The pain and the trauma are what wipes the brain so clean. The brain is very good at trying to protect you from pain, including the memory of it.” 

 

“So, you know they are coming for us and you just want to hurt me?” She asked, her tears spilling down her face. 

 

“That’s just an added bonus, my dear,” He informed her, green eyes bright as he bent over her chair, draping his arms over her bound wrists and grinning a bit more as she tried to pull away from him. “What I want to do is put you through the same conditioning the Asset went through. It will get back to the Asset, which will get back to the Captain, and then infect the entire team. Your friend here gets to watch and remember; and having constant terror her own beau will need to deal with on a daily basis.” He backed up again, turning a few knobs and flipped a couple more switches. An ominous beeping started.

 

“You knew you’d be caught.” Darcy asked softly, realization in her voice. 

 

“Of course. I knew as soon as our inside agent called us to get you. It wasn’t the right moment, but we couldn’t waste it.” He informed her, like they were talking about the weather. 

 

“Suzi, that bitch.” There was no real heat in her voice, she didn’t have room for rage with the panic and fear which was filling her being. 

 

“Yes, she had to be put down, of course. Ineptitude is not tolerated in my division.” He had killed the woman and didn’t even sound sorry about it. Like she hadn’t been at all important. Like she hadn’t been instrumental in this pivotal and horrifying moment in their lives. 

 

“Jane, honey, close your eyes.” Darcy said, sniffing back her tears as cold realization filled her. This was going to happen. She was going to be tortured in front of her best friend. Jane was shaking her head. “Close them.” 

 

“You’ll need this, my dear, trust me,” He had the mouthguard in his hands and was shoving it into her mouth despite her trying to turn away from him. One good yank of her hair had her stunned enough for the rubber to slip through her lips. 

 

“Hail Hydra.” He sounded so pleased as he flipped the switch and all she knew was white hot agony as a scream ripped from her throat. 

 

Jane screamed for her friend, useless tears streaking down her face. She couldn’t look away as the light zapped into her friend’s head. She’d already been questioned and then left alone. She wasn’t a threat like Darcy, or maybe she just wasn’t as fun. She couldn’t help being afraid of them, but she couldn’t find the sass Darcy had used so long ago. She couldn’t be strong enough for Darcy. So Darcy was trying to be strong enough for her. 

 

It was long minutes before the machine was shut off. Darcy still screamed for a few moments after it was shut off before collapsing bonelessly, her head lolling to the side. The man lifted his hand, tapping her cheek sharply and then putting his palm to her chest, his thumb rubbing gently across the swell of her breast. 

 

“I can feel her heartbeat, don’t sound so angry.” He called over to the growling physicist. Darcy moaned and he moved his hands, gripping each of her cheeks so he could smile into her face. “Come now, that was only the first taste.” Alarms started blaring and he looked up, cocking a single eyebrow. “Looks like they are ahead of schedule. Sit tight, ladies.” He was leaving and Jane moved, rolling her chair over to the table and rubbing her face on the corner to get the rag out of her mouth before bending to try and bite the tape off her arms. 

 

“Darcy? Darcy!” She was shouting her friend’s name around the tape, still crying and not sure how she was supposed to stop. “Darcy, sweetie, talk to me,” Jane got a corner up and yanked it up, ripping hair off her arm in the process as she began to wiggle her hand and wrist, trying to loosen it more than she already had while she was jerking at the binds. 

 

“Jane?” Darcy’s voice was thick with pain and confusion as the alarms stopped blaring. The red lights still flashed though. 

 

“Yes, Jane. Come on Darcy, he’s gone for a moment, I need you to try and focus on me, okay?” She jerked more, her motions violent as she got her arm mostly free. She would have insane bruising, who knew what kind of damage she was doing to her teeth. All of that was a litany in the back of her mind as she finally pulled her arm all the way free and stood up, twisting about to twist a couple knobs and remove the arm of the chair. It would be faster than getting the tape off. 

 

It was four short steps the the chair Darcy was strapped in and then she was working on the leather straps. Her fingers were clumsy and swollen with her efforts to break herself free. She should have been paying attention to what was going on behind her, but she was focused on her friend. She was a scientist, not a hero! An arm swung around her middle and threw her aside, sending the petite woman rolling across the floor, arm of the chair smashing into her face and side as she went. 

 

“We aren’t finished yet, Dr. Foster. Be patient.” He voice wasn’t so pleasant now. Jane got to her hands and knees as he flipped a switch. She was dazed, but she could see him, so she ran at him while Darcy’s screams filled the room. scratched and kicked as he carelessly hefted her away from the controls. She changed direction, pulling away from the man and diving at the thing above her friend’s head, using the arm chair still taped to her own arm to begin pummeling it. 

 

The shock wasn’t really surprising, she’d known she’d get some of the electricity. Perhaps it was the pain, or the way her shoulder joint went numb before the pain really set in. Whatever she did, the currents stopped going into Darcy and if Jane was a mumbling pile on the floor, so be it. 

 

“What did you do!?” He was screaming, as though it was some kind of surprise that Jane had chosen to save her friend. She didn’t expect the solid kick to her ribs, though. 

 

“Jane.” Darcy was trying to shout, but it was coming out garbled. She twitched, coming to enough to move her head, trying to find her friend so she could focus. There were spots in front of her eyes, she couldn’t make them go away. She jerked at the leather straps on her arm, crying as she tried to shuffle her legs and arms to get loose and couldn’t. 

 

“Alright, Miss Lewis, time to go.” He was back, one hand in her hair, the other easily undoing the straps on her legs and then her arms. By the time it occurred to her she could fight he was dragging her off the chair and she was trying to make her legs work and scrabbling her hands at his wrist in an effort to not have her scalp ripped of with her hair. 

 

“Jane!” She was screaming as she saw her friend heaped against the wall. “Jane!” Now she was fighting harder, scratching and trying to kick even as he hauled her toward the door. 

 

“Darcy?” Jane was moving, trying to get up, trying to get to her friend as the lights flashed eerily around them. 

 

Darcy twisted enough to see the man pull a gun and turn it toward her friend, an annoyed expression on his face. She slammed sideways, sending his shot wide as Jane screamed and tried to back away, her eyes darting from the gun to Darcy. 

 

They were in the hall now, he let go of her hair and Darcy dove at him again, to get him and his gun away from the doorway so he wouldn’t be able to hit Jane. He backhanded her with the gun hand, pain exploding in her cheekbone and making the white spots in her vision dance as her entire head throbbed. She didn’t even know how she was still standing. Wait, she wasn’t. 

 

“You could have been useful.” He was snarling at her, the gun dropping to her forehead.

 

“Let’s be honest here, it’s just the two of us.” She told him, her breath heaving like she’d just finished a workout with Natasha. 

 

“Even in death you will be useful.” He amended, a smirk playing around his mouth. 

 

“Put the gun down!” The voice came from behind her, but Darcy knew it intimately. The man’s gun lifted from her to Steve and she tried to scramble back, but instead fell and rolled a bit toward the side. Her adrenaline was wearing off again. 

 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Captain.” The man was telling her, dropping it again toward Darcy. 

 

“Darcy, honey, can you stand up?” Steve, no, Captain America was asking. She felt an odd squeeze in her heart at his words. She chased it for a fleeting moment, wondering why it was more regret than anger or indignation. 

 

“I-” Her words cut off and the pounding in her head intensified as she closed her eyes for a moment, the blinking lights torturous in their own rights. 

 

“Darcy?” That was Jane’s voice. Darcy opened her eyes again, turning toward her friend, needing to see her. Jane’s nose had blood dripping slowly from it and an ugly bruise marring her cheek. If that was how Jane looked Darcy didn’t even want to know how she looked. 

 

“Son, if you don’t put that gun down I’m going to have to shoot you.” Steve was continuing, his voice sounded closer. 

 

“I’m bound for death no matter what I do.” The man replied. Darcy saw Jane, saw the man, saw the gun, and forced herself to roll closer to the wall, trying to use it to stand back up. She had to make sure Jane was safe. 

 

“Jane, go inside,” speaking took effort and she stumbled back to her knees as she heard two gunshots go off in quick succession. She felt the spray on her back before she felt the pain in her chest. Steve and Jane were suddenly there, right in front of her. He was cradling her to his chest as she tried to speak and instead choked. 

 

“Jane.” She croaked the word out around a mouthful of liquid that her mind didn’t immediately identify as blood, despite the taste. 

 

“Darcy, don’t talk, we have to get you out.” Jane was telling her, crying again. Natasha was there, a gun in each hand. Darcy turned her head to see the man who had been her nightmare on the ground, a hole in his head. Of course Natasha had killed him. She was good like that. 

 

They were running, Darcy shuddering and choking as she tried to ask Steve about Bucky. She stopped trying before they made it to the quinjet. Her hand stopped gripping his shirt and bounced, as he sped up, shouting for medics. 

 

Back at the tower James looked down at his arm. It had started hurting and he couldn’t remember having any kind of pain in it before. He pushed his sleeve up, watching as he words he had marveled at faded from black to a soft gray. He stared, silent, at the letters, his free hand coming up to trace the loops. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until the tears fell onto the back of his hand and the words he treasured above all else, even his own freedom. Then he stopped being silent. 

Security footage would cut out in less than two minutes as James systematically destroyed everything he could find in the room. The bed bolted to the floors, the clothes on his back, and the camera in the corner included. None of the destruction helped the feeling of his heart being ripped to shreds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you are allowed to hate me. 
> 
> This story was me working out some of the things that I have gone through and a lot of the darkness that I often feel I am drowning in. This is also the only sad ending I have ever written and part of why I didn't add that tag in is because a) I really hate spoilers. I don't want to read something that tells me someone will die because it takes away any hope I have of change. B) because I didn't know I was going to kill Darcy until about chapter 6. Part of the point of this story is to show that even silver linings sometimes fail, but out of something terrible there is still hope for something good, that's why this isn't the end. Not every story is here to make you happy. Some are there to make you think, to make you wonder, and some are there for the authors release. Death sucks. I know this story upset people. It wasn't meant to, not exactly, it was meant to skew perception and to make you consider that not everything has a happy ending. 
> 
> Also, I'd like you all to go look up the music video for Sacrilege by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's. It was the inspiration for this story and I really think everyone should watch it. - Ms D


	8. Epilogue

No one knows how the soulmarks really work. Some of us are born with them, some of us receive them later in life. Some pairs get their marks when they’re both adults. Maybe because they aren’t ready to give themselves to another, possibly because it’s the life decisions that made them able to understand one another enough to fall in love. Experiments are run all the time, studies done, but I don’t think anyone will ever really know the truth. It’s what makes the idea of a soulmate so very scary.

Steve found his words written down his side during his post mission shower as he was washing away his sweat and Darcy’s blood. Strong, neat letters that implied he’d already talked to whomever was now meant to be his. He didn’t talk to anyone about the words for three days until Maria Hill said them during his debriefing and he’d apologized for not being good enough for her. Perhaps Darcy’s death had changed him. Brought him back to life in a way that a simple thawing out could never have done. 

Thor took the heartbroken Jane to Asgard to heal her wounded heart and to study with some of the wisest scholars they had. The stay ended up being extended when Jane had agreed to undergo a genetic trial to extend her life to that of an Asgardian, giving her more time with Thor. The only person to ever have successfully done the procedure was the deceased Queen of Asgard, Frigga, but they had to try. Darcy’s mortality weighed too heavily on their souls not to. It worked, thankfully, giving Jane more time to study the stars she loved and to be with the man who was her own soulmate. 

Natasha left the morning after Darcy’s death and wasn’t seen or heard from again for five months. When she finally came back she never said a word of where she’d been or the scars she brought back on her person or the Hydra moles that had been found dead in their homes and workplaces and vehicles. She knew how to be a ghost, how to be invisible, and if she had felt the need to avenge the young woman she’d thought of as a friend, that was her business and no one else’s. 

Sam had watched the bright young woman bring a real smile to Steve’s face. He’d watched her clean up her own devastated heartbreak to be there supporting Steve and her own soulmate. He’d watched the mess all of them made of their lives, Steve right in the middle of it, and felt like he could have done better. Done more. He threw himself into training, seeing Darcy’s shadow in every civilian he helped. 

Tony and Pepper gave her a beautiful memorial service. She was cremated and her urn used to grow a tree in the middle of a park they had named for her, Darcy Lewis Memorial Park. It was safe, clean, and had free wifi service, something that made Tony crack a grin whenever he chanced to think upon it. Darcy had been all about the free wifi spots. Pepper had been the one to go through her things with James a few weeks after Darcy died, Jane having run to Asgard and asked the other woman to help her with it. Pepper had originally planned to donate most things, but in the end James had asked to move into the suite. It was the first words he spoke after her death and Pepper couldn’t find any reason to deny him.

James, the man who had thought only to find something better than himself, he learned to live. The memories the young woman left behind helped him. He listened to her music, all of it. Every playlist, every scattered song, and there was a lot. He watched her entire Netflix cue, read every book on her shelf, and then went through her clothes, one shirt at a time. She’d loved collecting shirts from places she’d visited. So he visited those places as well. At first he’d imagined what Darcy would have done and tried to do the same, but after a while he learned what he liked and just went with it. 

Years later, when Jane’s oldest wanted stories about her namesake, James wouldn’t tell her the things he and Darcy had spoken of, he would tell her about the places she’d loved and the things she had discovered and how she’d helped him discover himself, even after she was gone. His voice would go wistful as he wondered what it would have been like to actually have her at his side while he visited those places, the echo of her laughter wrapping around him like a warm blanket, and then he’d focus back on the present and on little Darcy Foster, the undisputed apple of his eye with her thick brown curls, not quite dark enough, but still absolutely perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hell of a ride, guys! Thanks for sticking with us. Your tears renew my energy and let me go back to writing happy-sassy fics. I love you all, even if you hate me right now. - Ms D
> 
> Hey guys! We know many of you would like us to tag the major character death on this story. Well we aren't going to, because we feel that is a spoiler in this particular case. -tiziano


End file.
